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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491024">Small Things (White Collar/Batman Snippets)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheetahLeopard2/pseuds/CheetahLeopard2'>CheetahLeopard2</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>White Collar/Batman fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, White Collar (TV 2009)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Dick Grayson is Neal Caffrey, Dimension Travel, Galas, Gen, Neal Caffrey is Dick Grayson, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Parent-Teacher Conferences, Tim Drake is Neal Caffrey, Undercover Missions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:46:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheetahLeopard2/pseuds/CheetahLeopard2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets where Tim or Dick is Neal Caffrey.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson/Wally West, Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke, Peter Burke &amp; Neal Caffrey, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent/Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>White Collar/Batman fics [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>741</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Tim Drake walks away from the Burkes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whispercloud/gifts">Row (Whispercloud)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was encouraged to post this by Row (Whispercloud), Thank You</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal Caffrey has disappeared, for real this time- no record of him ever existing, even the case and arrest records were somehow wiped. Gone without a trace and without warning.<em>.. </em>15 months later finds Elizabeth hosting an event for WE’s NY branch, with Peter dragged along for the ride:</p><p>“Hello there,” says a familiar voice to Peter’s left, and Peter turns to see… Neal Caffrey- but he’s not <em>Neal</em>. </p><p> This is a Neal who’s charming but cold, who wears his fitted suits like armor rather than everyday wear.</p><p> Timothy Jackson Drake smiles at them, cold edged smile and eyes that twinkle- not with mirth, but with insecurity.</p><p> "I should arrest you,“ Peter says, tone mild but insides roiling.</p><p> Neal hums, "It would be quite the scandal, to arrest the head of the New York branch for being someone who doesn’t exist.”</p><p> "Wha-“ </p><p> "Tim Drake-Wayne,” Neal- <em>Tim</em>- holds out a hand between them, “Pleased to meet you.”</p><p> Peter gapes until Tim withdraws his hand, turns with a shrug of one shoulder. <em>This was a test. </em>Peter realizes- and he knows he’s failed it. </p><p> Tim glides away, through the false glitz and glamour of the rich, and the last gossamer threads of the mask <em>Neal Caffrey</em> slide and snap off of him as he goes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Whisk me away (into danger)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tim as Neal, with Ra's back on his bullshit</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's another small shot. Zach Anderson is a completely random name</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal sips his champagne idly, swirling the glass in his fingertips as he scans the room.</p><p>He doesn’t have an earpiece, so he doesn’t know what’s happening in the van, and his anklet has been replaced once more by the fancy knock-off watch. The only two agents in the room are Jones and Diana, posing as hired security for the building.</p><p>He’s well aware that one wrong move could send their suspect running. And what he’ll be running with…</p><p>Neal pushes down his reflexive flinch at the idea of that much kryptonite getting out into the scene. The FBI, thankfully, are clueless. They believe that the kryptonite they’ve seized is a cache of imperial jade. Neal’s more than happy to let them think so and quietly notify the JLA.</p><p>Speaking of…</p><p>Neal raises his glass slightly towards a familiar head of black hair, heading towards him through the crowd of attendees.</p><p>“Hey,” Conner greets with a lop-sided grin, “glad you made it.”</p><p>“Hey yourself,” Neal replies, eyeing Conner’s tux appreciatively, “How’d Jay talk you into that?”</p><p>“Let’s just say,” Conner leans in conspiratorially, “there’s wasn’t much <em>talking</em> involved,” he finishes the statement with an exaggerated wink, biting the side of his lip suggestively.</p><p>Neal laughs, “he won that spar, didn’t he?”</p><p>“Beat me to the ground,” Conner agrees cheerfully, “You’d think <em>he </em>were invulnerable.”</p><p>Neal snorts, but pulls on a serious expression, “Speaking of,” he murmurs, quiet enough that surrounding socialites won’t pay much mind, “do you have anything on Zach Anderson?”</p><p>Conner mirrors him, switching to business mode, “It’s odd… the operation he’s running is either large-scale or long-running, and he has no accomplices or subordinates so it can’t be large. But for such an extensive cache there’s no trace except what the FBI’s found. The League’s got nothing.”</p><p>Neal hums, “So he must have a backer, someone hiding his trail.”</p><p>“That’s the thing,” Conner’s lips are pulled into a frown, “he’s not on Luthor’s radar either.”</p><p>A grave silence fills the air between them, chatter of the socialites fading to the background as Neal absorbs the information.</p><p>“How is that possible?” Neal asks, “You don’t think-”</p><p>Conner nods, face twisted in regret, “You’re back on his radar. It’s Ra’s.”</p><p>Tim swears colorfully, “I’m going to need to restart again, aren’t I?”</p><p>Conner shrugs one shoulder, “How capable are your civilian friends?” he levels, “could you risk Ra’s getting them?”</p><p>“They’re capable, alright,” Tim answers, “but that’s not good enough.” He throws back the rest of his champagne with a scowl, “I thought I’d have a few more years.”</p><p>“Didn’t we all,” Conner sighs, “you destroyed their systems pretty thoroughly.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Tim chuckles darkly, “Nothing stops the League of Assassins.”</p><p>He opens his arms in silent invitation, and in a burst of superspeed and flight it’s as though the two of them were never there at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please Comment!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Don't Count Me Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So this was inspired by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522724/chapters/67840607#workskin">this</a> chapter of the scientific method by dreampunks</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is at a point in White Collar where Peter is keeping things from Neal that Neal knows anyway or smth. Definitely at a time when Neal has to prove he's capable of dealing with his own messes.<br/> He's undercover at a pro basketball tournament or smth and this is the top player being an asshole and decimating people at HORSE and he's been goading Neal the whole time + Peter's 'protectiveness'.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James smirks in an obvious challenge.</p><p>“$1,000 to whomever can make a shot that James can’t!” his manager wagers from the podium, waving stacks of money for emphasis, and Neal doesn’t break eye contact with James as he raises a hand.</p><p>“I’ll do it.”</p><p>“<em>Neal, what the hell are you doing?” </em>Peter’s incredulous panic is obvious even with the crackling quality of the earpiece.</p><p>“You’ve got balls,” James tilts his head mockingly, “But can you <em>ball</em>?” A Dick-worthy pun.</p><p>“I’m more skilled than you give me credit for,” Neal sneers, for both James and Peter.</p><p>He’s all Tim when he accepts the basketball from the ref and steps onto the court.</p><p>And he’s <em>pissed.</em></p><p>He carefully measures the steps from the net to half court, and announces, “My shot starts now.”</p><p>He turns around, and most of the spectators snicker. James has already done this backwards shot. He tosses the ball up backwards and the snickers increase in volume- the ball has a high arc, but should only make it about 3 quarters of the way to the net.</p><p>Tim smirks, and lunches into a backflip and a half to a tight back-handspring. <em>Hands, feet, hands, feet, hands</em>- He puts more power and distance into this fourth- shoulders grateful that he warmed up- and its apex he curls into a double backflip perfectly around the falling basketball, uses his momentum as he grabs it to slam dunk it over his head into the net. <em>Feet</em>. Solid landing.</p><p>It’s a trump move he used to use in HORSE against Jason and Steph all the time- Jason’s too big to get around the ball cleanly enough, and Steph isn’t as good about measuring her handspring distance.</p><p>James is gaping at him, and Tim allows a viscous smirk- his Red Robin smirk- to curl his lips up as he picks up the ball that rolls to his feet and lobs it at him, “Go ahead,” Tim purrs, “Show me how to <em>ball</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. White Collar to JLA</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The number is random</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is above our paygrade,” Hughes sighs, “for a kryptonite cache this big, we have to notify the JLA.”</p><p>“We only have a two hour window,” Neal points out, and they turn to him in surprise. He sighs, learning forward in his chair and clicking a few keys on the computer in the middle of the table, and a map comes up on the projected screen, “If you look at the first three shipments we intercepted, and then go a few steps forward in the pattern-” he circles a warehouse by a port, “that’s the last place it’ll be before it’s off- likely to Gotham, then Metropolis. And it’s already there, with the next vessel that could transport it without a Super knowing leaving in two hours, according to the ledger posted on the commercial port’s website.”</p><p>“We don’t exactly have a direct line to the JLA,” Peter says, “How do we notify them?”</p><p>Neal cocks his head, “Uh, yes? You do?”</p><p>Peter and Hughes stare at him in confusion, and Neal explains, “The main headquarters of every major CIA and FBI division, as well as select government buildings, have a secure direct line to the Wa- JLA headquarters. You have a number designation that the division head should have memorized or secured somewhere. It’s why there was a major cybersecurity overhaul a few years ago?”</p><p>Hughes mutters something to himself before gesturing for them to follow him back to his office, “I have the direct line, and I put the number designation in one of these books,” he gestures to the large bookshelf on the leftmost wall, and sighs, “unfortunately, I’ve forgotten which one.”</p><p>Neal, in a distinctly un-Neal move, pinches the bridge of his nose, “Open the direct line, I should be able to remember it.”</p><p>Hughes does as asked, clicking on a button on the wall so a screen somehow comes out of a hidden panel, starting a blank video call.</p><p>“FBI10983847 to JLA,” Neal rattles off, and the screen abruptly switches to reveal the Flash and Green Lantern, reclining in desk chairs as they point at spots on a holographic Earth.</p><p>The Flash notices the transmission first, “Oh hey Tim, what’re you doin’ at White Collar crimes?” the speedster asks, and Neal ignores Peter’s sharp intake of breath and Hughes’ incredulous stare.</p><p>“No names in the field, Flash,” he grits out.</p><p>Wally squints, “You’re in civis, dude. What else would I call you?”</p><p>“You could wait until I introduce myself,” Neal sighs, “I’m Neal Caffrey.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. this is why Tim doesn't bring his dates to the gala</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really love this one I'm just not sure where I'd go with it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey babe,” a familiar voice has Neal’s head turning to see Conner Kent walking towards him, a champagne flute in each hand. He accepts the one offered to him gratefully.</p><p>“Hey, Conner,” Neal hides his sigh of relief behind a sip of champagne.</p><p>They stand in companionable silence for a moment, before Conner bumps his hip playfully, “I thought you ran to New York to ‘avoid ever being forced to another gods-forsaken viper-pit of a gala ever again’?” he quotes Tim’s old words in a higher voice, a grin stretching across his face the whole while.</p><p><em>“Neal, who is that?” </em>Peter’s voice crackles through his earpiece.</p><p>Conner, with his super hearing, immediately raises his hands in a placating manner as Tim glares at him, “In my defense, I did not know the FBI was invited at all.”</p><p><em>“Neal! How does he know you? Can he hear us?” </em>Peter’s voice takes on an urgent tone.</p><p>Tim’s glare sharpens, and Conner takes a shuffling step backwards, “And that made things worse, fuck. Sorry.”</p><p>A familiar arm snakes around Neal’s waist and he’s pulled against a broad chest, “Woah, chill out Timbo. What’d Kon do?”</p><p>Tim turns his glare on Jason, whose grin falters as he sees the earpiece, far more obvious than any JLA or bat-issue com unit.</p><p>“Ah fuck, I forgot you’re with the Feds,” Jason groans, before he catches himself.</p><p>There’re more exclamations over the earpiece.</p><p>“Conner,” Tim says in a strained tone, pinching the bridge of his nose, “grab our boyfriend and leave before you both make my life more difficult.”</p><p>At this point, he can see Peter making his way through the crowd, can see the exact moment he freezes, <em>“’</em>our <em>boyfriend’?”</em></p><p>“Okay,” Conner says, “that one’s not my fault.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Amnesia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This one's up for adoption!!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you want to adopt this one message me on discord at _COentity_Avi_Leo#3652 !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal sees the gas escaping the canister, the leaking white rolls and suddenly he’s not in New York, working with the FBI. Instead he’s Red Robin and this is a mission gone wrong and he scrambles desperately for his rebreather-</p><p>Which he doesn’t have. Because he’s in civis. In a very poorly ventilated basement with no gear and he can’t do anything to jeopardize his identity but he doesn’t want to inhale Fear and-</p><p>The white gas reaches him, and Tim freezes, taking stock of the situation- this gas has a <em>taste</em>. It can’t be Fear, it can’t be Joker gas. The ensuing relief that floods his system is enough permission for his sleep-deprived body, and Neal passes out.</p><hr/><p>Peter’s not sure what he wanted to do when Neal woke up. Yell at him? Tell him how glad he is that he’s unharmed?</p><p>His first move probably shouldn’t’ve been to shout, “What were you thinking, barging in there before me, without backup?!”</p><p>Neal’s face scrunches up in anger, a clearer display of raw emotion than Peter’s ever seen from him.</p><p>“You think you’re so special, with your badge and your upstanding life and your amazing family and all your- your-” Neal goes nearly cross-eyed with concentration as he thinks of something to list, “organs! Well guess what! You’re just as mortal as the fuckin’ rest’a us! Ya get killed, ya die, an’ I <em>really</em> fuckin’ doubt y'u’re gon’ have a ‘lil swim ta getcha a’ight! All ya law-abidin’ people’d like ta think ya got tha’ high ground, don’ ‘ppreciate us savin’ y’ur asses,” Neal scoffs, crossing his arms even as he leans back against the pillows, clearly fading, “’Holy taken for granted, Batman!’ indeed,” he gets out before slumping back, passed out.</p><p>Peter stares, slack-jawed and confused.</p><p>“What was that accent?” Diana asks from the doorway, half amused and half confused.</p><p>Peter shrugs helplessly, “I don’t even know where to start with that. What’re you doing here?”</p><p>She shrugs back, “Heard yelling.” She shifts her weight and points at Neal, “So did Neal say he doesn’t have all of his organs? Or was that just me?”</p><p>Peter runs back through Neal’s rant in his head for a second, “No, he definitely mentioned organs, but I’m not sure if it’s just because he’s high on that gas or if he genuinely is missing something.” Peter sighs, deflating, “Damn it, Neal.”</p><hr/><p>The second time Tim wakes up, he’s significantly more in control of himself. He feigns sleep for a bit longer, taking stock of himself. Nothing’s broken, nothing even hurts significantly more than usual, other than his head. More consistent with a regular headache than a concussion though, based on his experience. He can’t remember what happened, though.</p><p>Even without opening his eyes, he can tell there’s a presence to the side of his bed, looming.</p><p>Tim sighs, “If you’re here to yell I’m not in the mood, B.”</p><p>“I figured,” said a voice that is distinctively <em>not </em>Bruce’s, Tim’s eyes snap open, and he turns his head slowly.</p><p>There’s a man standing by his bed in a rumpled dress shirt with a loosened tie and slacks. His voice is familiar, but Tim doesn’t recognize him on sight. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p>Tim’s in civis, without a mask on. Which means he probably got hurt as a civilian… or he’s been kidnapped, <em>again.</em> “Who the hell are you?” Tim asks, because it never hurts to try.</p><p>The man’s expression shifts to concern, and maybe a bit of fear, “You don’t recognize me?”</p><p>Tim shakes his head, hoping that if this is a kidnapping or something the man won’t get <em>too</em> offended.</p><p>Luckily, the man just goes pale, “I’m Peter Burke, FBI. I’ve been your handler for the last two years? Ringing any bells?”</p><p>FBI, huh? Not a kidnapping then. Still… Tim narrows his eyes, “Two years? What’s the date?”</p><p>Peter tells him, and Tim stiffens, running mental math. Peter said he’s his ‘handler’, which implies he’s a CI. He’s only got one alias that’s been in regular trouble with the FBI and has gone to jail. Of course, he didn’t spend any of that time <em>in</em> jail, but he’d definitely been through at least 3 years of his sentence… to be consistently working with the FBI for two years he’d have to have gotten another sentence.</p><p>“I need to go get a nurse and tell them you’re awake,” Peter says, and still in the doorway, “We’ll figure this out, I promise.”</p><p>Tim is silent.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Feel free to message me on discord with whatever!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. "You know Deathstroke?!"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Usually, you know the operation’s gone to shit when Peter curses.</p><p>Tonight, it’s Neal. Suddenly, violently, and in five different languages. He all but shoves his champagne flute into Diana’s free hand before stalking over to a well-dressed man with silver hair and an eyepatch.</p><p>From in the van, Peter startles and Jones starts laughing at the creative language.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Neal’s voice is low and dark, very different from the bright, cheery tones of the con man.</p><p>“Hey there, kid. Didn’t know you’d be in town, you bunking at the tower?” the man says lightly, almost teasingly.</p><p>“Cut the crap,” Neal growls, and Peter and Jones exchange a surprised look, they didn’t know Neal could sound like that, “Who’s your mark?”</p><p>“A man named Neal Caffrey. I’m just starting surveillance, so don’t get your panties in a twist.”</p><p>“Of course,” Neal sighs, the fight draining out of him as he rubs his temples, “Look, Slade, if you’re after Neal, you aren’t being paid nearly enough.”</p><p>“Oh?” Slade lilts, turning to give Neal more attention, “You know him?”</p><p>“I <em>am</em> him,” Neal says, rolling his eyes, “and last I checked, you said you’d charge at least 9 figures to kill me. Has that changed?”</p><p>Slade hums, sounding mildly put out, “I was offered 6 for this, and my client couldn’t afford what I’d charge for your life.”</p><p>Neal smirks, like he just heard a funny joke, “Couldn’t afford the bat-lash?”</p><p>With a deep chuckle, Slade rolls his shoulders and sets down his glass before clapping Neal on the shoulder good-naturedly, “Congrats, little bird, you live to fly another day.”</p><p>Neal raises an eyebrow, “Any chance you’ll tell me who almost paid you?”</p><p>Slade shrugs, “Depends on what <em>you’ll </em>pay me.”</p><p>Neal snorts, sounding almost fond, “Get out of here, Deathstroke.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Slade says with a mock salute over his shoulder, before disappearing into the crowd.</p>
<hr/><p><em>“Deathstroke?!” </em>Peter asks Neal as soon as he gets back to the van, “You know <em>Deathstroke the Terminator? </em>And your first move upon being told you’re his target is to <em>tell him that’s you?”</em></p><p>Neal shrugs, “YOLO.”</p><p>Peter splutters, clearly having a minor meltdown.</p><p>“So Caffrey,” Jones leans forward, “how’s it feel to know you’re worth 9 figures?”</p><p>Neal laughs, louder than usual with a sharp grin, “Perfectly whelming.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. So, coffee?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is just fun</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Please,” Neal pleads as he follows Peter into the bustling office, “I swear I’ll finish all my reports if you give me coffee.”</p><p>Peter sighs, “The point is to get you to sleep <em>more</em>, Neal, not less.”</p><p>Neal huffs, and Peter ignores him in favor of stopping Diana ask she hurries past, “What’s going on?”</p><p>“One of Gotham’s crime lords just got arrested today, here,” she reports excitedly, continuing to walk to the briefing/interrogation room, “He’s claiming he’s ‘past the whole crime lord shtick’,” she airquotes around the words, “and is just a vigilante now, but we can’t charge him for that with the Titans here in New York, and he’s still a murderer.”</p><p>“Who?” Peter asks, just as they get to the briefing room. Inside is a man in a brown leather jacket and red helmet, looking out the windows away from them.</p><p>“’Hood,” Neal says, darting past Peter into the briefing room.</p><p>“Red,” Hood greets in his modulated voice, surprising Peter and Diana, “Ya here ta pick me up?”</p><p>“Did you bring me coffee?” Neal asks, tone saccharine sweet.</p><p>“No, but I can buy some-” Hood turns, and freezes at the sight of Neal, unmasked in his tailored suit, anklet clearly visible and FBI agents behind him.</p><p>Neal’s face lights up, “Then yes,” he turns back to Diana and Peter, clapping his hands together, “Alrighty, let us through, the man’s free to go,” he holds a hand over his heart, “bat guarantee.”</p><p>“Holy shit,” Red Hood marvels, “When was the last time he was caffeinated?”</p><p>“56 hours and 13 minutes ago,” Neal answers, then frowns, “why do you ask?”</p><p>Red Hood turns his head from Neal to Diana and Peter, who’re standing flabbergasted, and back, “You don’t have a mask on, baby bird,” he reminds gently.</p><p>Neal shrugs, “Oops,” he says, before switching gears, “so, coffee?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Names</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is for impravidus, whom you can also thank for me posting so often!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What’s this?” Diana asks Peter, who’s glaring at the device on the conference room table.</p><p>Peter sighs, breaking his glare to glance up at her, “It’s a magic device that lists which aliases or names someone answers to in order of which they most identify with.”</p><p>“Ah,” Diana says, “you’re trying to figure out if we should try it on Caffrey.”</p><p>Peter shrugs, scowls, “I’m just not sure-”</p><p>“What about me?” Neal asks, stepping smoothly into the conference room behind Diana, making her jump.</p><p>“We should put a bell on you,” Diana snarks, relaxing.</p><p>Neal shrugs, before he zeros in on the innocuous device on the table, “Ooh, what’s this?”</p><p>Before Peter or Diana can say anything to stop him, Neal’s picked it up, turning it this way and that with sharp eyes, “Alien tech?”</p><p>“Yes-” Peter starts, before he’s interrupted by the machine whirring and projecting a holographic screen that quickly begins to fill with names.</p><p>“Red Robin, known also as: Red,” Neal freezes, and Peter and Diana’s eyes snap quickly to him, “Rob, Tim,” Neal starts frantically turning the device over and over in his hands, looking for a way to disable it as the screen stays where it is, mechanical voice steady, “Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, Timbo, Neal Caffrey, Caroline Hill-” Neal deftly pulls a panel out of the machine, and it falls neatly to pieces.</p><p>There’s a moment of silence, Neal’s gaze flickering from Peter to Diana and back as the three stand stock-still.</p><p>Neal- Tim- <em>Red Robin?-</em> takes one step back, then another, then turns and bolts when Peter’s hand twitches toward him.</p><p>“Shit,” Peter sighs, and Diana echos him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*sob* I just love them<br/>This is the only one for tonight though- I've had it for a while and I'm accepting I don't have any clue how to continue</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim wakes to the smell of eggs cooking and an arm curled around his waist, palm flat against his back under his shirt, slow, even breaths tickling against his scalp, and his face buried in a broad chest, the heartbeat thudding in his ear almost lulling him back to sleep.</p><p>Key word being almost, because now that he’s up he won’t be able to fall back asleep.</p><p>Still, he lays there for as long as he can, soaking in Jason’s warmth, enjoying Conner’s soft humming from the kitchenette, and the clinking of dishes as he cleans up from making breakfast.</p><p>The humming turns into a soft Kryptonian rendition of “You Are My Sunshine” as Conner approaches the bed, pulling Tim out of Jason’s grasp so he can croon the lyrics into Tim’s hair.</p><p>“Good morning,” Tim rasps, voice still thick with sleep, as Conner pulls back before ducking his head.</p><p>“Mornin’, babe,” Conner whispers back against Tim’s lips, “I made us breakfast.”</p><p>Tim hums, opening his eyes a crack, “Omelettes?” he guesses.</p><p>“Yep,” Conner smiles fondly at him, “Go brush your teeth and get dressed while I get Jay up.”</p><p>Tim nods, jaw cracking on a yawn, and stands. He heads to the bathroom, ignoring the soft mumbles of Jason waking up from behind him.</p><p>There’s a knock on the door just as Tim emerges from the bathroom, feeling slightly more alive.</p><p>Conner and Jason freeze from where they’re lazily making out- Conner braced on his forearm over Jason, leaning over the bed. Tim raises an eyebrow at them, before rolling his eyes and heading to the door.</p><p>“Hey, Neal,” Peter greets, brushing past him into the apartment, “Big day today, we-” he pauses, looking at the table with the 3 omelettes set out, “Do you have company?”</p><p>“Hey Peter, Come on in Peter, I’m fine, thanks Peter,” Tim mutters under his breath before switching masks.</p><p>“Yes, actually,” Neal says, clenched jaw hidden by a sheepish smile.</p><p>“Oh, this your handler?” Jason asks, now sitting on the edge of the bed with Conner next to him, smirking.</p><p>Peter whips around at the sound of Jason’s voice, clearly not having registered his presence before that.</p><p>Neal nods, “This is Peter Burke, and since he’s here I’m assuming one of you disabled my alarm clock?”</p><p>Conner shrugs, “I keep forgetting you’re working a 9-to-5 job.”</p><p>Neal hopes his incredulity passes through his stare as he signs “CEO?” from behind Peter.</p><p>Conner cocks his head with a raised eyebrow, and Jason laughs, “That definitely wasn’t a 9-ta-5 with how much ya put inta it.”</p><p>Neal mock-winces, “Listen- I. I have no defense. At least I wake up later than the sun now?”</p><p>Conner snorts, and Jason reaches to hit him with a pillow, “Y’ain’t one ta talk, Farm Boy.”</p><p>Conner whines, rubbing the back of his head as though the pillow could hurt him, and Neal chuckles, “Introduce yourselves, I’ve got to get ready for work.”</p><p>“Right-o, Mr. Leader-man,” Conner jokes, and Neal can hear the pillow hit him again as he walks back to the closet.</p><p> </p><p>He comes back just in time to hear Jason say, “What do you know? I could be an English teacher!”</p><p>Conner snorts, almost choking on his water. Jason makes an offended expression, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth before lowering it, “How is that funny?” he turns to Neal as he sits down in the empty seat beside him, across from Peter, “I could be a great English teacher, right love?”</p><p>“Sure,” Neal agrees, waiting for Jason’s triumphant expression before adding, “dufflebag man.”</p><p>Conner actually does choke this time, hacking into his napkin as Jason scowls, “I’d do a better job than you, highschool dropout.”</p><p>“Hey, now,” Neal says bemusedly, reaching for the salt, “you didn’t exactly make it through high school.”</p><p>Conner regains his breath just enough to wheeze, “Jay, Jay- highschool drop-<em>dead</em>.”</p><p>Jason’s face screws up as he tries not to laugh, “How insensitive, Kon,” he tuts, shaking his head.</p><p>Neal chances a glance at Peter, who looks confused but amused nonetheless, head tilted to the side slightly like he’s figuring something out.</p><p>“Did you know Neal in high school?” he asks, and Neal freezes.</p><p>With a smirk, Jason waves a hand proudly, “I knew him before he made it big!” he pronounces, with all the gall of a proud ex-classmate you haven’t talked to in 5 years.</p><p>“Yeah?” Kon scoffs, “Fake fan. I knew him before he could do handsprings.”</p><p>‘You can do handsprings?’ Peter mouths to Neal, and Neal shrugs.</p><p>Eyes narrowing, Jason takes up the challenge, “I knew him before he learned how to fence.”</p><p>Peter’s eyes dart between Jason and Conner, while Neal calmly eats his omelette.</p><p>With a smirk, Conner plays his trump card, “<em>I </em>knew him before his creepy older suitor stole his spleen.”</p><p>Neal freezes, fork still in his mouth.</p><p>Jason shrugs, mouth twisting in displeasure, “Can’t argue with that.”</p><p>“Come again?” Peter asks, brows furrowed and tone carefully neutral.</p><p>Conner tilts his head confusedly, “I’ve known-” he freezes, eyes closing and head tilting down a bit, “Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?”</p><p>Peter turns to Neal, eyes wide and incredulous, “You’re missing your spleen? ‘Creepy older suitor’?”</p><p>Neal slowly sets down his fork, “You don’t have anything on me before I turned 18,” he hedges.</p><p>“You need to have people who know you don’t have a spleen, baby bird!” Jason interjects, aghast.</p><p>“Okay,” Neal says, “but counterpoint- I don’t because it’s in my medical file.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Join me on the jaytimkon train please I am begging you</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. School conference</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>New York High School is a made-up high school (I think...)<br/>I deadass forgot to post the first half of this chapter omg</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal’s in Peter’s car when he gets the call.</p><p>At first he’s confused, because he doesn’t recognize the number and the only people who have his non-FBI-approved number are vigilantes and a few heros.</p><p>With a quick glance at Peter, Neal answers the call and puts it up to his right ear so Peter won’t see the phone, “Hello?”</p><p>“Hello, is this Mr Drake-Wayne?” a professional-sounding lady asks.</p><p>“Yes?” Tim confirms, with a quick glance to make sure Peter’s still focused on the road.</p><p>“I’m calling from New York High School about Damian. You’re listed as the person to call for parent-teacher conferences, when can you come in?”</p><p>Tim’s face must be doing something something interesting, because Peter glances at him, mouthing ‘You okay?’</p><p>Tim nods, and keeps his voice even, “This afternoon works, I can be there at 4.”</p><p>“Alright, the Principal’s office is room 123. Check in with security at the front to get a visitor’s pass when you arrive.”</p><p>“Will do,” Tim affirms.</p><p>“Have a nice day,” the lady says, and then there’s the dial tone.</p><p>“No problem June,” Tim says for Peter’s benefit, “Bye now.”</p><p>“What was that about?” Peter asks as they pull up at the office.</p><p>“Cindy’s watching this kid while his dad’s out of town, and can’t make a parent-teacher conference this afternoon so June’s asked me to go,” Neal lies through his teeth, “can you drop me at New York High School at 4?”</p><p>Peter sighs, “Should’ve asked me first.”</p><p>Neal pauses getting out of the car at that, turning to deadpan at Peter, who smiles, “But I guess, for June.”</p><p>Neal rolls his eyes and hides his smile as he exits the car. Time for work.</p><hr/><p>Peter is adamant about coming into the school with his to keep an eye on him, “You’re outside your radius Neal- I have to be there.”</p><p>This is how his cover’s going to be blown. Wow. Just because Damian did something.</p><p>Oh well, Peter’d probably find out eventually. This is fine.</p><p>
  <em>This is not fine.</em>
</p><p>Neal huffs an aggrieved sigh, “Can’t you wait outside the room? I doubt Damian’s going to want some random guy hear him get in trouble.”</p><p>“No can do, Neal. I have to have eyes on you,” Peter’s enjoying this, Neal can tell.</p><p>“Just don’t say anything,” Tim warns, before acquiescing. He takes off his hat, producing a comb from his inner jacket pocket and combing out his hair so it hangs around his face, which is set in a serious expression, changing his posture slightly to exude a steady presence of confidence but not cockiness, and making sure his anklet is hidden by his pants leg.</p><p>Peter watches his transformation with a slightly surprised and critical eyes.</p><p>Tim meets his eyes steadily, before turning to head into the building.</p><p>“Names?” the security guard asks in a bored tone, and Tim mentally squares his shoulders.</p><p>“Timothy Drake-Wayne, here for a conference about Damian Wayne,” Tim says, before tilting his head to Peter, “He’s with me, Peter Burke.”</p><p>Peter glares, mostly upset but somewhat curious- curious enough to let Tim collect their badges and start down the hall before opening his mouth, “What was that?”</p><p>“<em>That</em>,” Tim says, with only mild vitriol, “Was me blowing my cover.” He turns to glare at Peter as he pulls open the door to the Principal’s office, “Don’t make me regret it,” he hisses as he steps into the office, a polite smile affixed to his face.</p><p>Damian’s already there, his large frame slouched in one of the chairs with a scowl. Now 18, he certainly resembles Bruce or even Jason at that age. Tim knew that he’d been sent to finish high school closer to the Titans, but not that he’d been put down as the go-to for conferences.</p><p>“Damian,” Tim sighs, “What happened?”</p><p>“Drake,” Damian greets, before stiffening as Peter enters, “who’s this?”</p><p>“My handler,” Tim says, shrugging his shoulder in false nonchalance, “Peter, this is my younger brother Damian.”</p><p>Damian nods slowly, “Drake,” he asks, not looking away from Peter, “Did you just blow your cover to come to my conference?”</p><p>Tim sighs, “You’re more important Dami. Besides,” he chances a glance at Peter, who looks confused and slightly alarmed, “he was going to find out sooner or later regardless.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My birthday is on Saturday *does happy little wiggle*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Brief interruption</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dick as Neal</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I forgot to post the first half of the last chapter so Please go back and read it! So sorry about that folks.</p><p>2nd- THANK YOU for all the birthday wishes!!! So far my day's been pretty good</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>7am- the regular start to a workday for most people.</p><p>7 am is super early for most heros and vigilantes- especially those who work in the night.</p><p>Which means at 7:30am Neal’s at work, not expecting his emergency communicator to go off.</p><p>It’s one high, harsh whistle and then a low beep, which means he’s expected to drop everything and get at least a summary of what’s happening.</p><p>Unfortunately, he’s in the middle of a briefing.</p><p>Everyone startles at the sound, Jones actually falling out of his chair, and turns to him.</p><p>“Sorry, I have to take this,” Neal excuses himself absentmindedly, already fishing the device out of his most hidden pocket.</p><p>Once outside the meeting room, Dick opens the direct com line, “What’s happening?”</p><p>“This is RR, are you alone?” Tim sounds winded, and Dick’s immediately on edge.</p><p>“I’m in a hallway with a camera but no audio,” he responds, “What’s the situation?”</p><p>“Most leaguers off-world, invasion of earth by hostile forces imminent, focal point looks to be New York- Flash responding, founding four Young Justice members responding, other Bats dealing with Arkham breakout, outlaws off-world, Teen Titans recovering and unable to assist, requesting backup,” Tim says succinctly.</p><p>Dick winces, “Terrible odds, any chance of negotiation?”</p><p>“No, they won’t negotiate without a Lantern present,” Tim says, “But Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, and Green Lantern will be back with other Lanterns in a couple hours so we just need to hold them off until the Lanterns get here.”</p><p>“Fuck, okay,” Dick chances a glance inside the FBI office, and Peter shoots him a questioning glance and beckons for him to wrap it up and get back in the briefing room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comment pls &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. He needs you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another Dick as Neal</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>code is random numbers as always</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Alright," Jones says, hitting one final key before stepping away from the computer, "it's now hooked up so that when the thief calls to make the deal, we'll hear the call through the speaker."</p><p>As if on cue, Neal's mobile starts to ring.</p><p>Peter frowns, "That was quick."</p><p>Diana shrugs, "Blank caller ID, it's probably the suspect."</p><p>Neal hits the answer key, and immediately a familiar voice rushes through the speakers.</p><p>"N, protocol 5478 contingency 34."</p><p>Neal's heart seizes at Tim's words. He hasn't heard the batcodes in… a while, since he last put down the mask of Neal to be Dick Grayson for a day.</p><p>That doesn't mean he's forgotten, though. <em>Dead Justice Leaguer alive, immediate </em><em>non-hostile </em><em>backup requested.</em></p><p>Dick swallows past the lump in his throat, ignoring the FBI agent's confused gazes around him, "Who?" As an afterthought, he adds, "this is Neal Caffrey."</p><p>Tim seems to understand his implication that he's not alone, and simply answers, "Wally, he needs you," before there's a click and the dial tone.</p><p>Dick's halfway to the elevators before anyone in the room can react.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Surprise!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He clicks a button on the projector remote and a picture of Batman appears on the wall, “Who is this?”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Neal stares at them challengingly, and they stare blankly back.</p><p>“…Batman?” Jones finally offers, and Neal points at him.</p><p>“Yes! And what is he?”</p><p>More silence.</p><p>“… a vampire?” El asks, and Neal smiles, a bit manically.</p><p>“No!” he exclaims, “He’s my <i>dad</i>!”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is again because of Row (whispercloud)... Row please if you still want to write your own version of this I look forward to it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have called you all here today-” Neal starts, and Peter scoffs.</p><p>“Dragged, more like.”</p><p>“I have<em> called you all here today,”</em> Neal says again, a touch more aggressively with his hands pressed together in front of him, before pausing and looking around the conference room at Diana, Jones, El, and Peter again, daring one of them to interrupt. When no one does, he continues, “For a matter of upmost importance.”</p><p>Deep inhale-</p><p>“Is it case related?” Diana asks, and Neal sighs with a shake of his head, “then I’m out, I have work to do.”</p><p>“I have a meeting,” El adds, pointing her thumbs over her shoulder.</p><p>“Yeah I have to-” Jones starts, and they start to stand.</p><p>Neal slams his hands palm-down on the table, “Sit the fuck down,” he snarls, and they all freeze in surprise as he pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about board meetings and herding cats.</p><p>“<em>I have called you all here today-” </em>he says, voice low, “for a <em>very important </em>meeting.” He clicks a button on the projector remote and a picture of Batman appears on the wall, “Who is this?”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Neal stares at them challengingly, and they stare blankly back.</p><p>“…Batman?” Jones finally offers, and Neal points at him.</p><p>“Yes! And what is he?”</p><p>More silence.</p><p>“… a vampire?” El asks, and Neal smiles, a bit manically.</p><p>“No!” he exclaims, “He’s my <em>dad!”</em></p><p>Stunned silence follows this declaration, until Peter leans forward in his seat, “Neal…” he starts tentatively, “have you been drugged? Do we need to call someone?”</p><p>Neal frowns, “Sleep deprivation isn’t a drug. What does this have to do with the presentation?”</p><p>Peter opens his mouth, before deciding he’s not touching this with a 10 foot pole and closing it, turning to El.</p><p>“Neal,” she starts, looking between Peter and Neal frantically for a cue, “why… is Batman your dad?” she asks.</p><p>“Batman needed a Robin,” Neal says, “I mean technically I got emancipated but that’s just because we thought he was dead.”</p><p>“Wh-”</p><p>“I’m Red Robin!” Neal says with a wide, sharp grin, “Surprise!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(check out the new work in this series if you haven't already &lt;3)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Warm Welcome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dick as Neal</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am trying my BEST but I still haven't gotten any further w my Drake!Tim work so aHHHHHHH</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal sighs, leaning back in his chair.</p><p>A calm day at the office. As Nightwing, that’s a good thing. As Neal Caffrey, it means mortgage fraud cases.</p><p>He’s just about to give up and lay his head down on his desk to take a nap when there’s a blinding flash of light.</p><p>In an instant, every agent in the room has their guns out and trained on the man who has appeared in the middle of the office.</p><p>“Ah fuck, warm welcome,” Nightwing mumbles, before he freezes, having caught sight of Neal.</p><p>Neal groans, “Dimension travel or time travel?”</p><p>Nightwing shifts and taps his foot twice in what looks like contemplation, but Neal knows is a question. <em>Undercover?</em></p><p>Neal nods minutely, <em>Yes.</em></p><p>“Dimension travel,” Nightwing answers, “leftover tech from an invasion malfunctioned when Black Mask’s old henchmen tried to off Hood with it.”</p><p>“If they were after Hood, why…” Neal gestures to his alternate self’s attire.</p><p>“They were holding it backwards,” Nightwing shrugs, and Neal laughs.</p><p>“<em>Goons,”</em> they say at the same time, sharing a commiserating look.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please comment &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Dimensions and time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The gun pointed at them may look like a toy to Peter, Diana, and Jones, but Neal knows better- recognizes alien tech when he sees it.</p><p>He has just enough time to bite out a vicious curse and step to the front before the four of them are enveloped in a bright flash of neon blue.</p><hr/><p>Neal groans as he blinks the spots from his vision, and from behind the ringing in his ears he can hear Peter, Jones, and Diana muttering curses and recovering as well.</p><p>“What the fuck, Red?” comes a modulated voice that most certainly does <em>not</em> belong to one of the FBI agents.</p><p>Tim’s vision is clear enough for him to make out the Gotham skyline, and realize he’s in full Red Robin uniform. Red Hood’s across the rooftop from them, sniper rifle notched and aimed at the warehouse across the street. His helmet is off, which means he was probably watching through the scope.</p><p>“Got hit by unidentified alien tech…” Tim says, voice trailing off as he tries to figure out what’s going on, “Not sure the specifics-” he catches sight of the papers next to Red Hood, “wait, is this the Goldburg case?”</p><p>“Yes, why?” Hood answers, sounding a bit apprehensive.</p><p>“Fuck,” Tim breathes out, “Time travel.”</p><p>“What the fuck is going on?” Diana’s voice sounds harshly from behind him, and Tim takes a second to breath deeply. Count to ten. Turn around.</p><p>Peter, Jones, and Diana are standing, slightly unsteadily, and staring at Tim and Jason with wide eyes. They don’t look any younger, which is good. They must be in Tim’s past because he was hit first.</p><p>“Not sure,” Jones answers, shaking out his shoulders and looking around.</p><p>Peter steps forward shakily, gaze locked on Tim and Jason, “You’re Gotham vigilantes, right? Can you help us?”</p><p>Tim and Jason exchange a look as best they can with dominoes on.</p><p>“Wait,” Diana says, “Where’s Caffrey?”</p><p>Jason snorts, “Caffrey? Like that one board member you hate?”</p><p>Tim flushes, “I’m not the best at thinking of names, okay?”</p><p>Jason shakes his head amusedly, “Oh I know, <em>Alvin.”</em></p><p>“Wait,” Peter says, eyes wide in shock, “<em>Neal?!”</em></p><p>Tim winces, raising a hand to wave guiltily, “’Sup?”</p><p>“You’re a vigilante?” Jones asks, incredulous, and Tim shrugs. Diana’s mouth opens, but whatever she’s going to say is cut off by Tim and Jason instinctively stiffening as the com line crackles to life in their ears.</p><p>“Red Robin, Red Hood, there was an unidentified energy spike at your location. Check in.”</p><p>“You can say you’re concerned, old man,” Jason says, and Tim can tell he’s rolling his eyes under his mask.</p><p>Batman grunts, “Report.”</p><p>“That was me,” Tim reports, before rattling off the series of numbers that means ‘time travel’ in the batcodes, “And Batman,” he warns, “I have 3 civilian hanger-ons, should I take them to the cave?”</p><p>Batman grunts and the com clicks as it disconnects.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Red Hood interrupts FBI collar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Row (whispercloud)'s idea I just wrote it out</p><p>The discord: https://discord.gg/YW6G2qFvFy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tensions rise as the FBI surrounds the building, Peter and Neal flanking the entrance.</p><p>Then a gunshot rings out across the room and their suspect wavers, before falling backward- a singular hole in his head. A figure drops down from the rafters.</p><p>The Red Hood is here.</p><p>He prowls across the room, towards the filing cabinets by the door. The open door Peter and Neal are standing by.</p><p>Peter pushes at Neal, trying to get him to run. Instead, Neal scowls and steps through the door, blocking the path of the Red Hood.</p><p>Peter’s heart stutters, then- Neal speaks, “What the <em>hell</em> are you doing here?”- stops for a moment.</p><p>“What am <em>I </em>doing here?” the Red Hood balks, “I’ve been trackin’ this fucker forever- he’s a part a that human trafficking case ya gave me.”</p><p>Peter’s head is screaming at him, <em>danger, danger, danger.</em></p><p>“What’re <em>you</em> doin’ here?”</p><p>“This is an FBI collar,” Neal says, crossing his arms and setting his weight back, and Peter takes that as his chance to step into the room.</p><p>The blank face of the helmet turns to him and Peter freezes, heart pounding faster (<em>danger danger danger</em>).</p><p>“Fuck,” is said in a harsh exhale, and Peter resists the urge to flinch- “Sorry, love.”</p><p>Wait. What?</p><p>Neal sighs, one hand coming up from his chest to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I love you, but you just completely blew my cover.”</p><p>The Red Hood takes an immediate step back, hands raised placatingly… as though <em>Neal, nonviolent white collar criminal Neal, </em>is the threat. As though he could win against the Red Hood.</p><p>Peters hands shake.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You can drop ideas as long as you aren't like. Expectant about it. Don't assume I'll write them, but I love hearing ideas</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Oop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dick as Neal where only the bats know where he is and he's trying not to blow his cover</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Big day today,” Peter greets Neal as he steps into the office, “The JLA is sending a representative to talk about the Luthor case.”</p><p>Neal pales, and goes stock still, “When?” he asks, and his voice cracks.</p><p>“A few minutes, Neal are you ok-” before Peter can even finish his sentence Neal is turning to run, only to slam into someone.</p><p>Superman stares down at Neal in bewilderment, and Neal backs up a couple of steps towards Peter, laughing nervously, “Heyyy, Uncle Supes.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. He loved you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's a note on Neal's table</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oop</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's a note on Neal's table. '<em>If</em><em> I die,'</em> it reads, and the paper crinkles in Peter's hands, '<em>tell them I love them.'</em></p><p> Peter wants to grab Neal by the shoulders, to shake him and scream, "I thought we had run out of <em>secrets</em>!?"</p><p> But he can't. Because Neal- Neal's gone. </p><p> He finds out who <em>they</em> are when The Batman shows up at his door, months later. </p><p> "Please," pleas don't sound right on Batman's lips, "where is my son? You know him as Neal. Neal Caffrey?"</p><p> Peter's mouth is dry, his head fuzzy and ears ringing, "he loved you," unfolding the note from his wallet.</p><p> "He loved you."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Batman (mocking) (derogatory)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is also angst</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tim is very biased and is likely having a flashback<br/>Or memory loss up to you<br/>Either way he thinks Peter's Dick as Batman</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal blinks, slowly, as he sits up, and his pupils are large, “Batman?”</p><p>Peter shakes his head, helping Neal stand, “Just me, partner.”</p><p>“<em>Partner</em>?” Neal’s eyes narrow, “You can’t call me that.”</p><p>“What? Of course I can-” Peter cuts off when Neal jerks away, glaring at him with an intensity Peter’s never seen from him.</p><p>“Not after you <em>took Robin from me</em>!” the words aren’t shouted, but they may as well have been with how everything falls into silence, to white noise. There’s only one Robin Peter can think of.</p><p>“You weren't there,” Neal snarls, and Peter gets a sinking feeling. He’s not the one Neal sees. It isn’t even <em>Neal </em>standing, on wavering feet with blood gushing from the cut over his eye, before him.</p><p>“You acted like you were, like I was your brother. Like I was a good Robin,” he chuckles darkly, voice low and vicious- nothing like the bright, cheery tones of the conman Peter knows- "you didn't help me, and <em>I</em> paid the price. You act like you could ever measure up, <em>Batman</em>," the word is spit like poison, "I got away for cheap- a spleen and a reluctant fuck. You think you'll be half as lucky?"</p><p>There’s silence, chilling and cold. ‘<em>A spleen and a reluctant fuck’ </em>echos in Peter’s mind, over and over. <em>‘A spleen and a reluctant fuck’. </em>Peter might throw up, dizzy enough as his world turns on its head. Still, tense silence.</p><p><em>He</em> barks a laugh, a sharp, joyless sound, "I hope you are! Because for some fucked up reason I still care. Because you're my older brother. And I'll bring dad back and he'll take Batman back and you'll try to bring things back to normal. And-" he's sobbing, now, tears rolling down his face and choking him while he crumples, but Peter doesn’t dare reach for him, couldn’t if he wanted to.</p><p>“The worst part is I'll let you, I’ll let you pretend nothing happened, because to you it’s all back in place,” he gasps around his tears.</p><p>Peter hates this. This glimpse of a man vulnerable and strong and hurt <em>over and over </em>by people he should trust.</p><p>“Because you’re not the one who’s been <em>broken</em>.” A ragged breath, a straightened spine, as he pulls the pieces into jagged edges enough to resemble a person.</p><p>“I survived, but will you?”‌ the chilling smile, sharp and barely contained, and Peter knows who he’s looking at.</p><p><em>Red Robin</em> snarls before him, wavering on his feet but stronger than Peter will ever be.</p><p>Red Robin frowns, reaching to the back of his neck. He looks at the dart with surprise, murmuring, “’Hood,” before falling like all his strings have been cut.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments always appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Why do you have it?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keller</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter 21 posted February 21st *nice*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Do you know what this is, Caffrey?" Keller taunts, holding up a syringe as he swabs Neal's arm. </p><p> Neal narrows his eyes at the contents as Keller injects it into his arm, making sure to keep the muscle relaxed, "It's-"</p><p> "Liquid Fear, formula #8, one of 4 5ml bottles that went missing from a deal between Scarecrow and Black Mask a year and 4 months ago. The ensuing fight killed 12 civilians before Batman and Signal subdued both rogues," Neal interjects, nearly on autopilot as his mind runs a mile a minute, "Why do you have it?" </p><p> Keller looks stunned at Neal's answer. </p><p> "Oh and I've long since been vaccinated against this strain, sorry to disappoint."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anyone wanna adopt this?? Lmk on discord!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Garage Experiment Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dick as Neal in this one</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter sighs, looking at his watch for the third time.</p><p>“What time did you tell him to be here again?” Neal asks, idly swiveling his chair from side-to-side as he stares at the ceiling.</p><p>“About eight minutes ago,” Peter sighs, just in time for a harried redhead to rush into the office, files nearly falling out of one hand and a coffee in the other.</p><p>“So sorry I’m late!” he says, almost too quickly to understand, his eyes wide and darting around the room before they settle on Neal and he brightens considerably.</p><p>Neal, on his part, is watching the redhead with barely concealed amusement.</p><p>“Hey babe! Sorry, didn’t know you’d be here or I would’ve brought you coffee-” his fast speech is halted by Neal raising a hand in the ‘stop’ gesture.</p><p>“Hey, Wally,” Neal greets, single eyebrow raised and amusement curling his lips and leaking from his tone, “You’re the forensics investigator they sent?” he asks, clearly ignoring Peter mouthing ‘babe?’ very obviously to Jones and Diana and receiving shrugs in response.</p><p>Wally smiles crookedly in response, “I’m the best they’ve got.”</p><p>Neal laughs, bright and loud, almost a cackle- certainly not the charming chuckle he usually gives- “I’m sure you are, garage experiment man.”</p><p>“Hey! Cheap shot!” Wally pouts, “I was like, 14. And it worked, didn’t it?”</p><p>Neal tilts his head to concede the point, and Peter takes the moment to interject, “Alright, Mr West.” He pauses, “How do you know Caffrey?”</p><p>“Caffrey?” Wally says, catching Neal’s eye, something that looks a lot like panic flashing in his eyes before he laughs with a shrug, “science fair.”</p><p>Neal’s smile widens at the words, everyone turning to him, “What? You act like forgery doesn’t require chemistry.” He gestures between him and Wally with a wink, “Which we have plenty of.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>=D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>jaytimon have psychic kryptonian soulbond. Humans don't have soulmates (unless w a kryptonian/half-kryptonian). Magician mindlinks Peter, Diana, &amp; Neal unaware of the soulbond</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt by damdemiwitch<br/>I got stuck here kjfdsnjkfn sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal laughs, as expected of him. He’s always hated these events, both as Timothy and now as Neal. His only consolation is that it was organized by El, meaning the food is great.</p><p>He turns, and catches sight of their suspect. Freezes. “Oh shit,” Neal says, ignoring the surprised looks El, Peter, and Diana cast him.</p><p>“You know her?” Peter asks quietly, and Neal nods absentmindedly.</p><p>“Yeah,“ mind working a mile away. “Yeah, she’s a magician and she. Doesn’t like me much.”</p><p>Peter hums in contemplation, eyeing her, “Magician as in card tricks or magician as in league-level?”</p><p>“Definitely league level,” TIm says, he got on her nerves as a titans member, after all.</p><p>Peter turns a long-suffering look on him, “How is it you manage to piss off anyone remotely dangerous?”</p><p>Ha! If only Peter knew, just last week he had to chase off Ra’s again.</p><p>‘<em>What?!’ </em>echoes in his mind and Tim winces, realizing too late he’d let his mental walls drop. There are benefits to having a kryptonian soulbond, but Tim’s still getting used to people caring.</p><p>‘<em>Nothing, nothing. Magic user at work</em>.’ Tim reassures, and Jason’s huff is almost audible.</p><p>‘<em>We’re havin’ a Talk later, prettybird</em>.’</p><p>‘<em>Seconded</em>,’ Kon thinks.</p><p>Luckily Peter’s taken his wince as an answer, and rolls his eyes.</p><p>That’s when the magician catches sight of Tim and winks, before flicking her fingers at the group he’s standing in, consisting of Peter and Diana.</p><p>Then she disappears.</p><p>“Peter,” Neal says, turning from where she’d vanished to meet his eyes, serious, “don’t kill me but I think she just cast something on us.”</p><p>Peter lectures him all the way home.</p>
<hr/><p>There don’t seem to be any effects, at least not until they all see each other at work the next morning.</p><p>As soon as Neal and Peter walk in and see Diana, Neal feels his mental shielding go down, and hears Diana go, “<em>I need coffee</em>.”</p><p>In his mind. Queue panic.</p><p>“<em>God</em>damn <em>it, Neal. This is why we don’t mess with magic users.“ </em>Peter thinks, annoyed.</p><p>“<em>Oh shit oh fuck oh no</em>,” runs through Tim’s mind, over and over.</p><p>“<em>Neal? What the fuck?</em>” Jason thinks, bewildered.</p><p>“<em>Who thought that</em>?“ Kon wonders at the same time, and Diana and Peter turn to Neal.</p><p>“Did others get hit too?” Diana asks, thinking, “<em>If they’re civilians we need to bring them here.“</em></p><p>Jason’s sardonic laugh rings through Tim’s head, “<em>Lady, if anyone’s the civilian here, it’s you</em>.”</p><p>Tim runs through scenarios and excuses in his head as fast as he can, and Peter clutches at his head, “Jesus <em>Christ</em>, Neal, can you think any slower?”</p><p>“Okay,” Tim says, “Okay,” exhale, “codenames.”</p><p>“<em>I’m ‘currently doing that’, presumably</em>,” Kon thinks with amusement, a flash of the meme running through their heads.</p><p>“<em>I’m ‘currently doing that’, you’re ‘since he picked a dude’</em>,” Jason corrects teasingly.</p><p>“<em>You right, that’s true</em>,” Kon’s nod is almost visible.</p><p>“I’m so confused,” Diana says under her breath, and Tim makes an executive decision.</p><p>“Peter’s office, now.”</p><p>“<em>That include us, sweetheart?</em>” Jason asks, thought tinged with glee.</p><p>“<em>We’re at the tower, could be there in 30 seconds-ish</em>.” Kon reports.</p><p>“<em>Tower</em>?” Peter wonders, and Tim thinks before he can stop himself.</p><p>“<em>Titans tower.“</em></p><p>Peter and Diana’s thoughts flood with incredulity and questions, and Tim takes a deep breath, rubs his temple, and heads to Peters office.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is the meme Kon and Jason were referencing: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cD39sMJBbc4">here</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Text messages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29903850">"new phone, who dis?"</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/astropocalypse/pseuds/astropocalypse">astropocalypse</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>Neal</b>: k so uh</p><p><b>Neal</b>:‌ bad news or good news first?</p><p><b>Peter</b>: Bad.</p><p><b>Neal</b>: i may or may have gotten stabbed again</p><p><b>Peter</b>: Again?</p><p><b>Neal</b>: it’s fine tho itdve hit me sleep</p><p><b>Neal</b>: spleen</p><p><b>Neal</b>: yaknow if i had one still ;P</p><p><b>Peter</b>: Are you suggesting you don’t have a spleen.</p><p><b>Neal</b>: yes yes old news</p><p><b>Neal</b>: Kon. Conner. SB. Sugartits. u can <em>literally</em> see i dont have it why is this a surprise</p><p><b>Peter</b>: Who’s Conner? Another fence? What do you mean he can see it? You better not be bleeding out somewhere I swear Neal. What hospital are you at? I’m checking your tracker now.</p><p><b>Neal</b>: Oh Fuck Wrong Number Hahahaha sorry idk you</p><p><b>Peter</b>: Neal I have your contact saved.</p><p><b>Neal</b>: Nope sorry wrong phone</p><p>[outgoing call: Neal]</p><p>“Neal.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Neal I know that’s you.”</p><p>“No you can’t.”</p><p>“Neal-”</p><p>“CHchchchchch sorry you’re breaking up.”</p><p>“Neal I know you’re crumpling paper.”  </p><p>“Chchchc I don’t know what you’re chchchchc talking about.”</p><p>“Neal-”</p><p>“Bye.”</p><p>click.</p><p>Whispered softly, but with feeling, “What the <em>fuck</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Low-key referencing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=haa8GuHjm10">this</a> from Batman and Harley Quinn</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Dana Elizabeth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>P L E A S E Hop on this train w me</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dana Elizabeth Winters had to go into witness protection after Captain Boomerang killed her husband.</p><p>Tim hasn’t seen her in maybe 8 years.</p><p>Or rather, hadn’t. Because here she is, right before him, with her new life.</p><p>“Tim?” Dana Drake- No, Elizabeth Burke- reaches towards him with trembling fingers, and Tim’s hit with memories of her asking if he needed help with homework, asking how his day went. Of late night ice-cream tv show binges and laughing over society pages. Of moments that made him feel <em>normal</em>.</p><p>“Hey, Dana.” Tim says, squeezing his fingers where they slot together, “Long time no see.”</p><p>“Honey, I told you a million times,” Dana pulls his hands apart, always so gentle, hands soft and uncalloused by harsh realities of life, “you can call me ‘mom’. It doesn’t matter that your father’s gone.”</p><p>Tim lets a soft smile overtake his features, “Mom. You’ve missed a lot.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Disclaimer: idk canon Dana's middle name</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Packless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'm so intrigued by the idea of being packless having huge psychological repercussions. This was supposed to be longer but I'm really heavy into a writing block so</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tim's an alpha, Jason's an omega, Kryptonians don't have dynamics but humans do so Kon's a beta but bc Kon's half-alien he doesn't smell as strong or have much beta instinct</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neal’s dressed up for the event, a fitted tux dark enough red it looks black, with blue accents.</p><p>They’ve barely walked into the gala when Neal’s attention is caught by a pair waltzing on the dancefloor.</p><p>Peter sighs mentally, he should’ve anticipated a big event like this, where people are flaunting their wealth and prosperity with their ostentatious scents, would overwhelm the packless alpha’s instincts.</p><p>He grabs Neal’s wrist, pulling him back as he takes a restless step towards the pair, “Neal.”</p><p>Neal turns his sharp blue eyes to him, glaring, and Peter squeezes over the gland on his wrist, “control yourself.”</p><p>Neal pauses, taking a deep breath with his eyes squeezed shut before he pulls his wrist from Peter’s grip, “Sorry.”</p><p>Peter nods, “You’re packless, you really have to be more careful.”</p><p>Neal’s eyes flash with… something… at the mention of his packless status, but he nods with pursed lips, “I’ll start scanning the room.”</p><p>Peter nods, and lets him go. The comm in his ear crackles, “You sure he’ll be alright, boss?” Diana asks, and Peter sighs.</p><p>“We’ll see.”</p><p>—</p><p>As soon as Peter lets him go, Tim makes his way to the refreshment table.</p><p>He knows Kon and Jason will have noticed his entrance, and will be over soon enough.</p><p>In the meantime, he runs a critical eye over Luthor’s chosen catering, selecting a small plate and mingling for a bit before he smells the familiar mix of sunshine and heated metal.</p><p>“Alpha,” Jason greets teasingly, cocky smirk playing along his lips. Tim takes a deep breath, overwhelmed by the word laced with possessive intent.</p><p>He hasn’t had a pack in so long, much less a romantic bond.</p><p>Kon meets his gaze deliberately as he tilts his jaw, an invitation.</p><p>Tim steps forward, into Jason’s personal space first. This close he can parse out more than the bond scent, warm metal with notes of heady lavender and woodsmoke. He rubs his cheek against Jason’s pulse point briefly, and Jason’s throat bobs with the quickly brush of his lips.</p><p>He forces himself to draw back, or he’d be pushing the limits of what scenting is societal allowed so publicly. One hand comes to press against Jason’s chest- rumbling in a quiet purr- as he leans over to do the same to Kon, apple butter and sunshine warming his heart as he scents him lightly as well.</p><p>And then Tim’s hauled back by a firm grip around the base of the back of his neck, and he resists the urge to bare his teeth and make a scene.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Peter’s saying, voice reprimanding and apologetic all at once, “Please forgive him, he’s been packless for a while and isn’t quite in control of his instincts-”</p><p>Jason cuts him off with a barked laugh, razor sharp, “Packless? Aww,” a smirk curls his lips as he croons, “little alpha doesn’t talk about us?”</p><p>Peter’s grip slackens slightly in surprise, and Neal shrugs off his arm. Kon reaches a hand towards Neal, and Neal goes to slot himself against his side with a content sigh.</p><p>Peter meets Neal’s gaze, “Since when?”</p><p>“It’s a… fairly recent development,” Neal admits, “I was giving myself time to adjust to having a pack before I told you.”</p><p>That draws Peter up short, “You shouldn’t have to adjust to having a pack, it’s instinctive?”</p><p>Jason’s hand finds Tim’s on Kon’s back, squeezing gently.</p><p>“I’ve only had one other pack in my life, Peter,” Neal explains, and Peter nods slowly. That’s not uncommon, seeing as many choose to stay with their families for a long time.</p><p>“I joined it when I was 14, left at 16 and a half. Ish.”</p><p>Peter blinks, “I’m sorry, repeat that?”</p><p>“I first joined a pack at 14. I met them at 13 and was accepted at 14,” Tim says with a clinical sort of detachment.</p><p>“What about your parents?” Peter blurts, before wincing.</p><p>“They were’t dead, if that’s what you’re thinking,”‌ Neal spreads his palm in the air, a sort of shrug, “They just didn’t care.”</p><p>“Neal… you’re 28. You’ve only had pack for about 3 years of your life?” Peter looks a special kind of stricken at the news.</p><p>“He’s got us now,” Kon says, his arm around Tim tightening, grounding him.</p><p>Peter blinks, as though just remembering where they are, “And you know who he is?”</p><p>Jason laughs at that, “I’d say we got a better idea than ya do.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Clone baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a baby at Neal’s desk.</p><p>There is a Baby. At Neal’s desk.</p><p>There’s also a beautiful woman, but. Baby. Not in the woman’s arms, just laid down on the desk.</p><p>Peter stops in his tracks, and Neal pokes his back, “Hey, what’s…?” his voice trails off as he catches sight of the woman. His tone goes cold, wary, “Talia.”</p><p>“Detective,” she nods at him, and Peter turns to Neal to question it but is stopped by the look in Neal’s eyes, harsher than he’s seen.</p><p>“Why are you here? Is that another Damian?”</p><p>Talia blinks, and something in her body language indicates more <em>amusement</em> than <em>threat</em> for an instant, before it’s smoothed over again.</p><p>“She’s yours.”</p><p>A beat, two.</p><p>“What,” Neal’s tone is flat, several emotions warring in his eyes, “Did he keep my spleen or something?”</p><p>“What?” ‌Peter finally gets his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth. Talia barely spares him a pitying glance.</p><p>Neal closes his eyes for exactly ten seconds, then, “Whose DNA did he supplement with?”</p><p>Talia’s eyes flash with something like regret, “My son’s. Jason.”</p><p>Neal curses, fishing out his phone, “Are you going to stay and explain?”</p><p>Talia must do something that reads to Neal as hesitance, because he adds, “He misses you,” said lowly, like a secret.</p><p>A moment of silence, before Talia sighs, “I suppose.”</p><p>Neal nods, “Are we in any danger from him?”</p><p>Talia shakes her head, “He says he has no use for another daughter.”</p><p>Neal nods, as though it makes sense.</p><p>There’s a commotion from the stairwell door, before two burly men burst into the otherwise empty office.</p><p>The shorter of the pair, in a black leather jacket, zeros in on Neal, rushing forward and looking him up and down as though he could see if Neal were injured below his suit, “Are you okay?!”</p><p>The other man, in a brown leather jacket, seems to have been brought up short by the sight of Talia, gaze flickering between her and the baby on the table.</p><p>“Hello, Jason,” she says, hesitant in a way it seems she wouldn’t be used to.</p><p>“Mo- Talia?” Jason stutters out, expression wary and vulnerable, “What-?” he waves his hands vaguely in the direction of the child sleeping peacefully on the desk.</p><p>“Yours. And Tim’s.”</p><p>Jason blinks, stepping forward and offering his large finger, which the baby unconsciously grasps. He looks hopeful, happy..</p><p>“Can someone <em>please</em> tell me what the fuck is going on?” Peter asks, throwing his hands up in the air as everyone in the room turns to him.</p><p>“Peter,”‌ Neal breathes, “These are my boyfriends, Jason and Conner. And…” he inhales, “our daughter.”</p><p>Peter bluescreens.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Clone kid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've been super productive but I'm having sad today</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> It’s a calm day at the office when Neal Caffrey gets a personal call.</p><p> “Hello, Pru,” he answers, fingers clacking across the keyboard as he fills in a report for Peter, “Mhm. Yeah…” </p><p> His fingers stop abruptly, eyes narrowing and tone flattening, “What.”</p><p> A pause.</p><p> “What do you mean <i>you lost her,“ </i>his voice raises just a hair, and Diana raises an unnoticed eyebrow at him from the next desk over.</p><p> Another pause, Neal, in a distincly un-Neal move, exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Pru,” he starts, infinitely full of false patience, “she has to be monitored at all times.”</p><p> Pause.</p><p> Neal’s fingers twitch, and if he were anyone else Diana would think he’s repressing the urge to punch something, “She can <i>fly</i>, Pru,” voice full of exasperation, “of course the locked doors aren’t going to hold her.”</p><p> Diana exchanges a curious look with Jones, who shrugs, mouthing ‘video game?’ to her.</p><p> Diana shrugs back. </p><p> “Kon’s on a business trip, and so is Clark,” Neal says slowly, “So <i>no, that wouldn’t work.“ </i></p><p>A pause, then Neal rolls his eyes, “Call Jason.”</p><p> A pause, during which the person on the other end of Neal’s phone yells loud enough for the feedback to be heard by Diana.</p><p> Neal just repeats, “Call Jason. I’m at work.”</p><p> He splutters, cheeks going a bit red, “Fine! Fine, I’ll call him. See if he ever lets you babysit after this.”</p><p> He fiddles with his phone for a moment, then sits back, “Hey, Jay.”</p><p> “I call you all the time!” Neal pauses, tilts his head to the side in concession of a point, “Fair enough.” Inhale, “Pru lost- What.” His tone’s gone flat again.</p><p> Neal presses end call in a jabbing motion.</p><p> “Didn’t you need that conversation?” Diana asks, and Neal throws his hands in the air in exasperation.</p><p> “Apparently <i>not, </i>since he’s coming here.” </p><p> “Who?” Peter asks, coming down the stairs from his office and looking around, before narrowing his eyes at the phone that Neal quickly whisks off the desk. </p><p> “That’s not an approved phone.”</p><p> “Well…” Neal says, drawing out the word until the elevator dings.</p><p> In walks a young teen in a small superboy shirt, jean shorts, a backwards blue baseball cap, and canvas shoes, “’Sup, Pops?”</p><p> “Catherine,” Neal nods, before focusing his attention on the man who walked in behind Catherine, hands casually in the pockets of his leather jacket, posture laid-back as he rounds Neal’s desk, leaning down to kiss his forehead.</p><p> “Hey, love. Sorry f’r droppin’ in on ya at work, butcha know how Cathy is.”</p><p> “What?” Peter asks the room at large. A few agents shrug.</p><p> Neal narrows his eyes at the newcomer, “You aren’t sorry, you think it’s funny.”</p><p> The stranger just smiles and shrugs.</p><p> “This is about the list, isn’t it?” Neal asks pointedly, and turns from the snickering stranger back to Catherine, “Tell your dad he’s not funny.”</p><p> “Jay, stop pickin’ on Pops,” Catherine obliges, a smirk of her own on her face.</p><p> “Pops?” Peter echoes warily, giving Catherine a more thorough once-over. Her blue eyes are paler than Neal’s, but she has his sharp cheekbones and pouty lips. </p><p> Neal purses his lips, “Now see what you’ve done?”</p><p> “Neal, since when do you have a kid?” Diana asks, and Neal sighs.</p><p> “Since eight years ago,” Neal says at the same time Catherine speaks.</p><p> “I’m 14.”</p><p> “So your mom had you?” Peter asks Catherine, and she scrunches her nose.</p><p> “I don’t have a mom. Three dads is enough for me.”</p><p> Neal puts his head in his hands as everyone turns to him, Jay patting his back consolingly.</p><p> “Three, huh? I think I only know one, you willing to introduce me?” Peter’s not sure exactly what’s going on, but he’ll never pass up on a chance to embarass Neal.</p><p> Catherine snorts, “You don’t even know one real name.”</p><p> Neal’s head shoots up, and his eyebrows furrowing as he looks Catherine over, comprehension dawning on his face, “You guys are forcefully taking me off the mission!?” he all but squauks, and Jay laughs.</p><p> “Got it in one, honey.”</p><p> “Mission?” Jones asks, and everyone leans a bit closer in to hear what Neal has to say.</p><p> “JLA stuff,” Neal waves his hand dismissively, focused on Jay, ignoring as everyone reels back in shock.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. A la Ra's al Ghul's penchant for kidnapping him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> “Don’t worry,” the kidnapper says, turning a cruel smile on Neal and El, “They aren’t getting out of here alive.”</p><p> Neal knows he’s not lying. He’s been in enough- really, a few too many- hostage situations, as both rescuer and victim, to know when the kidnapper means business. </p><p> “Let the thief die first,” he says, turning away with a dismissive wave, “then the woman. I have other business to attend to.”</p><p> With that, he leaves, and one of his underlings comes forward with a sadistic smirk and a syringe, “This is calibrated to your age and weight class,” she drawls, teeth flashing, “just enough to draw out the pain but <i>certainly</i> enough to kill you.”</p><p> Neal grits his teeth, fiddling with his bonds as she depresses it into his arm. He’s got a tolerance for most poisons, a la Ra’s al Ghul’s penchant for kidnapping him, but she won’t know that. </p><p> “Now, we wait. And once you’re dead, this lovely lady will be next.”</p><p> Neal can feel his limbs grow slightly heavy, his vision blur slightly, but that’s about it. Fuck the waiting. He can blow his cover for this.</p><p> Tim drops the handcuffs behind him, and the underling laughs, “Bit too late for that, handsome.”</p><p> “That’s what you’d think,” Tim snarks, raising his chin to glare at her. He ignore El’s gasp beside him.</p><p> He assesses, three goons behind, two in front plus poison lady. Undetermined amount of hostiles in the building. </p><p> Then, he strikes.</p><p> For all her talk, poison lady goes down easily with a throat punch, the five goons are inexperienced enough to all charge him instead of calling for backup, and go down rather easily as well with a broken leg, wrist, and a few punches to vital organs.</p><p> He turns back to El, not a scratch on him, and beckons her to the door, “Get out of here.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please validate me *sob* I work so hard</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please Comment</p><p>To join the white collar/batman server, click <a href="https://discord.gg/SnjTSuvtds">here!</a></p><p>edit: Not taking requests or criticism on content I produce for free in time I don't actually have!! Maybe don't take fic writers for granted. Holy shit.</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265795">Too Busy Saving Everybody Else (To Save Yourself)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/astropocalypse/pseuds/astropocalypse">astropocalypse</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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